The End
by Angel16
Summary: A night in the life of T'Pol
1. Default Chapter

The End

By: Angel

Disclaimers: Alas, Paramount still owns Star Trek, all its many incarnations and characters. This is for entertainment only, and I'm not making a dime.

Rating: G

Genre: I don't know. Angst, maybe?

Summary: A night in the life of T'Pol.

Spoilers: Little bit for "Home".

Chapter One

T'Pol of Vulcan lay still in her bed. Her eyes were closed even though she was awake. As her chest rose and fell softly, she absorbed the sounds and smells of the Vulcan night air drifting in through the window. The cry of a wild sehlat floated on the breeze and there was the rare odor of fresh rain, which was expected for later this evening.

In her mind's eye she could picture the night. The moonless sky would be lit by thousands of twinkling stars as the clouds drifted slowly in from the west. One star in particular fired her imagination. She watched it mentally and thought of the third planet orbiting it.

On that tiny rock, which she had dismissed in her youth as nothing more than a mild fascination, lived a people she had come to admire and respect. Among them, were some of the descendants of her first true friends. She was still relatively young for a Vulcan, only 147 years old, but she had already outlived all of them and most of their children. However, she was old for her age and soon she would be done with this life. It was logical. After all, she had sorely mistreated her body decades ago, and now she was paying for it.

Fortunately, her Pa'nar Syndrome had not impaired her as far as she had originally feared, but it had shortened her lifespan. The Trellium addiction was another matter. Her emotions remained close to the surface and over the past year had become almost impossible to control.

She drew a deep breath now and concentrated on relaxing. She was supposed to be sleeping, and if she didn't rest soon, she would be that much worse tomorrow. As she exhaled however, she opened her eyes and cast her gaze down at the hands lying flat across her abdomen. They were an old woman's hands and she wondered idly when they had acquired the wrinkles and dark spots that seemed to cover them. Raising them, she touched her hair softly and pictured the former luxurious black silk that was now replaced entirely with gray.

As her fingers combed through the dry locks, she traced the point of her ears. Her breath caught and a stray tear rolled silently down her cheek as a memory more than eighty years old flooded her fragile mind. Suddenly, she was young and beautiful again and in the decon chamber with Trip. He was rubbing warm gel over her ear tips.

From there, she was accosted with a myriad of memories. There was Trip, pregnant! Then Trip was smiling at her over the Captain's table. Trip, laughing at movie night. Trip's face when he'd learned of the Xindi attack. Trip crying when he finally accepted Elizabeth's death. The feel of Trip's lips the first time she kissed him and the look of disappointment that followed the next morning when she'd dismissed him as an experiment.

T'Pol smiled broadly and cried simultaneously as her mind was assaulted with the images from the distant past. Her wedding to Koss flashed unbidden and the stress that followed it. Trip was there again, looking sad and a little lost. Then, the sight of him upon her return to Enterprise after her husband's funeral. He was scared and unsure. She felt great joy at the memory of their renewed friendship. The sight of Trip on their own wedding day brought more tears. No man had ever looked so happy, except perhaps Trip again at the birth of their first child and each of the subsequent children.

Her mind overflowed with thoughts of their family. She could see herself and Trip with all four of the children. Time passed quickly now in her mental home movie. The children grew up, moved out, married and had children of their own. Trip aged beside her, and then the day came when she was alone again.

It had been nearly twenty years since Trip's death. He'd lived to be ninety-eight and had died peacefully in his sleep, lying next to her. Most mornings she still expected to find him in the kitchen when she got up, making tea and reading the latest engineering journals.

T'Pol breathed deeply again. Looking back, it had been a good life, filled with adventure and love and family. She decided that if tonight were her last night, she had no regrets. Of course, regrets were not logical anyway, but her logic had left her long ago. She closed her eyes to sleep before her granddaughter, T'Lana checked on her.

She drifted off and envisioned herself as a young woman walking through the desert sands of her homeworld. In the distance, she thought she saw a man with light hair. As she got closer, she realized it was Trip as he had looked when she first knew him. They began to run toward each other and met halfway, embracing as he swung her around. As he set her down, he said softly, "Hey, darlin', I've been waitin' for ya'. Let's go now." He turned to lead her deeper into the desert.

"Go? Where will we go, Trip?" she heard herself ask even as she allowed him to hold her hand and guide her.

He cast a lopsided grin at her and answered, "Anywhere we want, darlin'!" He kissed her softly before indicating the distant desert and the crowd of people standing there waiting for them. She saw Captain Archer, Hoshi Sato, and all of her former shipmates. Gladly, she followed him.

The door to T'Pol's bedroom opened quietly and a lovely young woman entered. Her sandy blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail and the delicately pointed tips of her ears peeked out from under loose strands. She walked to the bedside and reached out to check on the matriarch of her family. Her hand stilled as she approached the old woman's chest and she let it fall to her side. Even in the dark, she could see the stillness of the sheet and her Vulcan hearing detected no sounds of breathing. She turned the light on to double check and noticed the tender smile that pulled at her grandmother's lips. Softly, T'Lana stroked the cracked skin of her grandmother's hand while a few tears flowed down her warm cheeks. Then, gathering her Vulcan mask about herself once more, she left the room to inform the family that T'Pol of Vulcan was no more.

End Chapter One

A/N: This was originally conceived to be a multi-part story (though hopefully not in any direction you'd imagine), but I'll decide whether or not to continue it based on feedback. Let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

The End

By: Angel

Disclaimers: Alas, Paramount still owns Star Trek, all its many incarnations and characters. This is for entertainment only, and I'm not making a dime.

Rating: G

Genre: Definitely angst for this one!

Summary: A night in the life of T'Pol.

Spoilers: Little bit for "Home".

Warning: This is a rather dark chapter. It was difficult to write and even more difficult to re-read. I want you to read it, but be forewarned!

Chapter Two

T'Pol of Vulcan lay still in her bed. Her eyes were closed even though she was awake. As her chest rose and fell softly, she absorbed the sounds and smells of the Vulcan night air drifting in through the window. The cry of a wild sehlat floated on the breeze and there was the rare odor of fresh rain, which was expected for later this evening.

She imagined the way the night must look, how the moonless Vulcan sky would be lit by thousands of tiny pricks of starlight. Her thoughts wandered to a particular star and the inhabitants of its third planet. How she longed to see her old friends again, even their children had become like family to her over time, but they were gone now. She had outlived all of them.

At 147 years, she was still young by Vulcan standards, but her body had not aged well thanks to her Pa'nar Syndrome and Trellium addiction. She knew that she did not have long left, and for the first time in a long time she was relieved.

Her life had been logical to a fault. Yes, she had wandered from the path of Surak for a few years and had even intentionally experimented with emotional experiences, but finally her upbringing and sense of honor won out.

She had returned home after the Xindi mission confused and exhausted. Then, out of nowhere, came Koss. His insistence that they follow through with the marriage they had been promised to was a surprise, but it offered a comfortable release. She married him willingly, albeit disinterestedly, to provide herself with a safe cushion.

From that point on, she and Trip remained distant friends at best. It was difficult at first, but after a time, she transferred off of Enterprise and the physical distance made it much easier to pretend. She followed the established path of a Vulcan wife and returned home to her husband's side. Shortly thereafter, they welcomed a child and again her life found focus.

The years went by as they always do and she kept in touch with many of her old comrades from Enterprise. She learned that Captain Archer was made an Admiral shortly after the founding of the Federation. Soon after that, he married and began a family of his own. Along the way, the rest of her former shipmates found spouses and had children too. She was happy for all of them, except one. That's not true, she was happy for Trip. She wanted him to have a good life, but why did he seem to find it so easy without her?

Sighing deeply, T'Pol fought back tears over the painful memories of wasted time. It would not do to awaken Koss yet again with an emotional outburst as she had on so many previous nights. She blinked rapidly and tried to find internal peace, but it was not to be. Her mind was deluged tonight and she was drowning in the murky waters of the past.

Eventually, time caught up with her friends. Some of them perished in the line of duty. Some suffered debilitating illnesses, which took their lives slowly and after much pain. Some, like Trip, simply passed quietly into the night as the result of old age. She had heard from his grandson the following day in a brief communication. Apparently, he had gone in his sleep while surrounded by family, including his wife, their three children, and nearly a dozen grandchildren.

The pain of that particular memory was as poignant now as when it had first occurred, nearly twenty years ago. As her degenerated neural pathways struggled to deal with the onslaught of emotion, she felt herself give in to the anguish and the tears flowed freely down her face.

Koss turned in the bed next to her and barely disguised the disgust in his voice as he asked, "Wife, are you well?"

"An illogical question, husband, as you already know the answer," she managed through the tears.

He turned away from her again as he rose up out of the bed. "It is late and I must rest. I will retire to the spare room this evening and see you in the morning." He strode purposefully toward the bedroom door without looking back.

Sighing deeply, T'Pol again sought solace in her mind, but found little. She recalled the joys of raising a daughter and the sorrows of losing her mysteriously while on a deep space mission barely ten years ago. Now she was left with an uncaring husband and too many lonely nights and barren days.

As the last of her tears dried on her crackled skin, she finally drifted off to sleep. As she rested, a dream came to her subconscious. She found herself wandering off into the Vulcan desert during the heat of midday. As she walked, a man approached her and offered her a covering, but she did not trust this man because she could not see his face clearly and so she walked along further without protection.

The sun beat down upon her head and she was parched beyond all measure, but still she walked. Another man approached her and again she could not see his features, so she refused his kindness and would not take a drink from his water bottle.

Now she crawled along the hot sands and her skin was nearly blistered where it was exposed to the ultraviolet rays; this time when the stranger came to her he offered her shelter in a cool cave. She could barely move and would have resisted again if he had not picked her up and carried her there.

Once she had regained her senses in the safety he'd provided, she looked up at him. There in the darkness of the Vulcan hillside stood Commander Tucker, as she had known him all those years ago. "Trip?" she croaked out through parched lips.

"Yes, T'Pol, it's me. I tried to save you so many times, but you wouldn't trust me." His voice was sad and his eyes were wet with unshed tears.

She looked around the dank surroundings. "But, I'm here now. Can you help me?" She pleaded with him as the burns on her skin began to ooze.

He shook his head slowly, a frown coming over his features. "I'm sorry, darlin', but I can't stay. You forged your way alone and now you have to continue the path you chose."

As his words struck home, she reached out desperately, demanding he remain. "Wait! Please, don't go!" But it was too late, he was already gone and she was alone and once again out in the heat of the desert.

It was the following morning before Koss returned to the bedchamber he had shared with his wife for nearly eighty years. He easily concealed the surprise he felt at finding her still in bed despite the lateness of the hour. As he approached her form, he discovered the reason. Bowing his head slightly at the sight of her, he said quietly, "May peace be with thee," before leaving the room to notify the officials that T'Pol of Vulcan was no more.

End Chapter Two

TBC


End file.
